Casual Fridays
by vanishingact
Summary: Awkward, stereotypical humor. 'What makes a guy start drooling? Chase, were you wearing your short shor... Oh God.'


Yes, I know this is random and pretty dumb. It's more of an awkward fantasy than anything. cough

I'm going to, uh, go over there.  
I don't own anything.

* * *

The day Cuddy announced the start of Casual Fridays was filled with much rejoicing. The staff had long since tired of stiff collars and scrubs. Needless to say, this announcement seemed heaven-sent. Cameron promptly kissed Cuddy on the mouth in her joy, as Chase hopped up onto the Mayo Clinic's counter, arms full. 

"Popsicles for everyone!" he squealed, throwing up his arms, pelting everybody in a torrent of glorious frozen treats.

"This is great!" Foreman exclaimed excitedly. "We should celebrate!" Foreman pulled out a large stereo from beneath his lab coat, and with his handy collection of rap music, filled the air with sounds of 50 Cent, Nelly, and other various African American and/or Jamaican artists.

"Hey Foreman, where did you get that stereo?" Cameron inquired, eyeing the nifty piece of technology.

"..." All of the people in the clinic stopped to stare at the black hunk of man. He loosened his tie and gave a short laugh, as he began to sweat profusely.

"...I found it on the floor." Yes, everybody was jubilant... except Dr. House.

"If that's your professional ensemble, I can't wait to see what tacky crap you wear _outside _of work," House snapped angrily, smacking the back of Chase's knees with his cane while stuffing popsicles into his mouth. He had been put into such a bad mood that even watching the Australian topple off of the counter failed to make him smile. "I dress however the hell I feel like, every day! I don't benefit from this, so what's the point of its existence?"

** --The arrival of Friday--**

"House, you owe me clinic duty," Cuddy snapped, leather creaking as she placed her hands on her hips. 

"Sure thing, Cuddy," House replied with obvious fake enthusiasm. "By the way, I like your cat suit." The hospital administrator looked away bashfully and attempted to hide a smile.

"I'm trying to get back in touch with my high school years," she gushed, before glaring at House and pushing a file into his hands. "Now get to the clinic!"

--

"Phillium de Fatso," House said flatly, motioning for the patient to follow him.

"You can just call me Phil-"

"Shut up." He sat down and glared at the gurgling young man in front of him. "Now why are you wasting my time?"

"I-I can't stop drooling," Phil garbled, through a mouthful of saliva. "What's wrong wit me, Docta?"

"Deja vu of seasons two, episode six! This is the perfect opportunity to create another House-ism for myself!" House thought excitedly, limping over to the phone as quickly as his leg would allow. "Tell Dr. Chase to come to Exam Room 1 immediately, for a consult."

"Why? Ish it dat bad?"

"Shut up, Phil. I'm busy making myself a legend." House assumed the coolest pose he could think of, looking disinterestedly at the floor while leaning against the edge of the desk, arms crossed. Within seconds, he heard the door open, and lifted his head slowly and sexily.

"What makes a guy start drooling? Chase, were you wearing your short shor- Oh God." House abandoned his "cool pose" and felt his jaw drop to the point where a gay hormonal teen would have been proud.

"Well, it could be anything from epiglottitis to rabies- House, are you alright?" Yes, Chase was wearing short shorts, but not just _any_ short shorts; the said article of clothing clung to his skin like a layer of paint. House raised an eyebrow at his subordinate's long, golden, smooth, hairless legs and the dainty stilettos on his feet. He gulped nervously at the sight of a torn black fishnet shirt peeking out from beneath the lab coat. It seemed that his weren't the only eyes Chase had attracted; a crowd of people had gathered at the window, among them being the other two ducklings.

"Uh," House coughed, clearing his throat, all of a sudden feeling very constricted. "What's with the shoes?" Great, now he couldn't even think of something insanely witty to say.

"Oh, they're new. Do you like them?" Chase giggled, kicking up one foot in girlish joy. "They make me feel _beautiful_."

"And, ah, the rest of your outfit?" Chase bit his lip anxiously.

"See, I was going to wear my favorite mini skirt, but I didn't want to risk starting any rumors..." House nodded stupidly. "And as for my top... I'm getting in touch with my dark side," he whispered huskily. "Now what's this about drooling?" House's eye twitched as he jabbed a thumb in Phil's direction, who had collapsed onto the exam table upon Chase's arrival, nursing a massive bloody nose. As if on cue, House's nose also began to bleed wildly, and he sank to the ground at the tell tale symptoms of low blood pressure.

"Oh gosh!" Chase cried, "I think I know what this is!"

"Erk," Phil gurgled, blushing red every time the handsome doctor spoke.

"But the question is," Chase breathed sensually, while removing a leather stethoscope from his pocket and sinking down onto the floor to straddle his boss, "what would you do to live?" Phil let out a strangled scream of lust and bolted out the door, unable to handle that sexy bedroom voice any longer.

"What a prude." House pushed the door closed with his cane, still holding his nose. "I guess it's just us." Chase stood up abruptly and dusted himself off in mild miff.

"Dr. House, I'm not gay. I don't know whatever could have led you to that conclusion." Turning on his heel, he left, stilettos clicking politely with each step. This, however, gave House the perfect opportunity to observe the younger doctor's perfectly taut and alluring buttocks and the erotic sway of his hips. Okay, so maybe he benefited a _little_ from Casual Fridays.

--

Cameron and Foreman laughed insanely as Chase flounced back into the diagnostic room.

"That was perfect!"

"Did you see the look on his face?" Chase beamed and lowered his lashes modestly.

"Oh, it was nothing." For a moment, the three stared at each other awkwardly. Foreman's eyes darted around the room in a desperate attempt to look anywhere but at the scantily clad wombat.

"Chase, you can, er, change out of that costume, now," Cameron said slowly, covering her flushed cheeks with her hands. Chase blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Costume?"

**Fin.**


End file.
